


There Are Millions Of Suns Left

by yourjoyfulheart (joyfulsongbird)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, If you enjoy extremity meticulously plotted things, I’m not your girl, Welcome, but if you like lots of Emotions, first part
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24077827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joyfulsongbird/pseuds/yourjoyfulheart
Summary: After the happenings of Season 6, Clarke falls ill with an illness that could potentially be deadly. But many things about her illness are not what they seem.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake & Madi, Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Clarke Griffin & Madi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 72





	There Are Millions Of Suns Left

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!!!! This is my first published multi chap fic for The 100 fandom so take my offering of angsts and emotions thx. Say hi to me on tumblr @madi—griffin !!

_i. stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems_

"Clarke?" Madi goes to get Clarke after spending a couple hours with Raven in the machine shop in Sanctum. she was lying on their shared bed, the way Madi had left her that morning. Madi hadn't joined the rest for dinner yet, hoping Clarke would be awake to join. as if Clarke had been eating with the others at all lately, but Madi had hoped... it doesn't matter but she had hoped that Clarke would be waiting for her to come and they'd walk arm in arm to the mess hall and join the others. she'd smile that smile that Madi hasn't seen in- in so long. practically since the valley.

Clarke is curled into herself, facing away from the doorway into their room above the tavern, but Madi can see her golden hair spread out against the pillow like a halo.

"Clarke, are you asleep?" no reply. Madi shifts up foot to foot, wondering if she should wake her and tell her where she's going. if she wakes up during dinner and freaks out that Madi isn't there (and Madi knows that Clarke will do just that) she may tear around Sanctum in search of her. she makes up her mind to attempt to wake her, though she wishes she didn't have to. everyone can see the dark circles under her eyes lately, the heaviness on her shoulders. but deeper than that, something not everyone can see, the weight on her chest, pressing deeper and deeper; a chasmic crater just under her skin. nobody can see it, even Madi has trouble getting glimpses under Clarke's skin nowadays. she's good at pretending, pretending to be Josephine was what saved her life after all.

she kneels on the bed, shakes Clarke's shoulder softly. nothing. Madi frowns, Clarke has always been a light sleeper. in the past, even Madi's voice would've easily woken her. she pushes harder against her shoulder, tugging her towards her until she's lying on her back instead of her shoulder.

"Clarke?" pale lips, even paler skin. sweat droplets pooling under her eyes and on her neck. a million observations flood Madi's mind: shallow breathing, fevery skin, clammy hands clutching the sheets on the bed.

all of them point to: _bad, bad, bad, this is bad._

she doesn't know what to do, she doesn't how to help her. so she gets up to find someone who can.

_ii. You shall possess the good of the earth and sun, (there are millions of suns left,)_

_Clarke dreads her upcoming birthday with a deep passion, the day she's turning 25 approaches rapidly and she spends the week prior flushed in cold fear and unwavering anxiety. Madi knows and might have planned something while they were on the ground but a part of her wants to pull her daughter aside and attempt to explain to her that she never told her friends- her family- her birthday. that they had no celebration on the ground when she was around. that when her 18th birthday eventually came around, she tallied it off like any other normal day. a day that should've been a milestone in her life, the beginning of adulthood, felt fake. she was already an adult, the ground forced her to grow up in ways she had yet to._

_and to make it somehow worse, her mother will never witness another birthday of hers. she missed her 18th birthday... and every single one afterwards. it hadn't even occurred to her that this would affect her so much, her growth had always been arbitrary. more things were happening, people were dying, the world was burning. the last thing that mattered was one woman's years of life. but when she met Madi... everything mattered. she was a child and Clarke wanted everything normal that a child could have for her. they had small parties with just the two of them and celebrated like a family should. Madi always got so... so excited in the weeks approaching Clarke's birthday. she'd plan surprises and homemade gifts, pick flowers and weave crowns with them. wake her up in the early hours of the morning and announce to absolutely no one that today was a very important day. Clarke loved this day for Madi because she loves her. she pretended not to think of her mother and her friends in the stars, because she loves her._

_now, looking at the girl before her, Clarke can't tell if she's too grown up for those things now or if she's forgotten completely._

_Bellamy doesn't know, Madi doesn't remember, her mother- her mother isn't here to hug her and hold her. her mother is dead._

_in lieu of a celebration, she decides that she'll be the one to suggest a funeral. since no one else will. during Earth times, if there was nobody there was no burial. but this is about her mother. she needed to... to finish this. they're in a meeting, and about to end after a long discussion whether to stay in Sanctum or go after Diyoza. a very serious talk of their future. she to work up the courage to break through the sounds of rustling papers and chit chat._

_"I'd like to organize a burial." she pipes up suddenly. she can feel all eyes suddenly turn on her, their gazes piercing. Bellamy is the first to look up from folding the map. "for my mother. I know that there's no body but I'd like- I want a grave. a headstone."_

_there's a moment of silence. she doesn't allow any emotion to cross over her face, nor enter her voice. she remains stone faced, they mustn't know she's tearing herself up inside. giving a funeral for her mother, who has joined her father wherever you go after you die, wherever she won't be joining them when she goes to hell. she's weeping inside, falling to her knees and screaming to the sky. she's lost everything, everything, everything, everything_. _and she's losing Madi too, even with the flame gone she's grown up and able to fend for herself. she's so... she's so proud of her. there's a deep pride in watching the new teenager still hold a leadership position. she's still making decisions even without the flame, she's still in meetings. as much as Clarke doesn't like it, she's relieved that Madi has been alleviated of the flame and of being put on a pedestal, that's enough for now._

_"that's completely understandable, we can have a headstone near Shaw's." Bellamy says finally, his voice soft. Clarke involuntarily glances towards Raven at the mention of Shaw, her eyes have narrowed but she doesn't make a comment._

_"do you want a ceremony, a gathering?" Bellamy won't meet her eye, continuing to fold up the map._

_"no." she says quickly. "just me. if there was a ceremony-" it'd make it feel real._

_"alright, meeting adjourned."_

_the "burial" is the next day. Clarke is the one who arranges for the headstone. Clarke is the one who walks from Sanctum, making it feel like a one woman procession, with her mother's marker under her arm. she catches the eye of several people walking past her, she gives them a thin lipped, polite smile that she's perfected over the years. they don't know that she's going to lay her mother to rest. the entire responsibility of her funeral is on her shoulders, as well as what feels like her death in general. maybe if she hadn't pretended to Josephine the second time... maybe if she hadn't done so many things her mother would be standing right there, and would celebrate her birthday with her in two days. this isn't okay. nothing about anything is ever okay._

_she places her mother's grave near Shaw's but not too close, for fear Raven would be upset, and stands back. she just stands there, for she doesn't know how long. she stands there, eyes dry, hands clasped over her stomach. almost like a prayer but not quite. she stands there, letting the darkness of night fall over her like a blanket but resisting sleep. it's the least she can do, hold herself and wishing that she could hug her mom one more time, think back to all the times she was angry, that she claimed she'd never forgive her. when she didn't know how short life could be, how she'd lose so many people in such a short time and she never said a proper goodbye._

_she stands there for hours, losing herself in her mind. somewhere she should learn by now is not a place she should spend too much time in. especially after literally going into her own mind._

_"hey, hey, Clarke." a soft voice caused her to crack her eyes open. "have you been out here all night?"_

_"hey, Madi." she murmurs. "I've just been doing some thinking, that's all."_

_a soft hand rests against her arm, squeezing gently. "you're cold, you should come get some sleep."_

_the gentle tug tells her that Madi is trying to pull her away, convince her to walk back to their room. but she doesn't budge. everything feels fuzzy, out of focus. is she crying? is she falling?_

_"I see her," Clarke says finally. "Madi, I see her."_

_"Clarke..."_

_"I see them all." she chokes out. "and I-"_

_"Clarke, you're delirious. please, come to bed." and so she does. because hearing the worry in Madi's voice is enough to tear her away from her mother's grave. they walk arm and arm back to Sanctum, Clarke barely clocks anything or anyone that passes them. Madi shoos away several people who attempt to approach them. her vision comes in blurred snapshots of reality. a polaroid image of Madi opening the door. a freeze frame of the staircase as they walk up it. and before Clarke can even protest, Madi is pulling a blanket up to her chin like Clarke used to when she was so little she was scared of the dark._

_"Mad-"_

_"sleep, Clarke, I'll come get you in the evening for dinner, okay?"_

_she wants to say that she doesn't want to sleep, that then the nightmares will come, but her tongue feels like lead, and her eyelids the same. pulling her under against her will, the world turns dark before she has to say a word._

_iii. You shall no longer take things at second or third hand,_

Bellamy is spending the majority of his evening feeling down. not so much of a feeling and more of an activity. rather than sitting with the rest of his family, he's opting to sit near Jordan (who has practically ostracized himself from the group) and silently play a game of cards that Bellamy doesn't know the name of but knows the rules to. they don't speak, neither of them wants to. the resentment burning off of Jordan is something Bellamy thinks about every day, the fact that they have already failed this once bright eyed boy in just a few weeks. but he likes silence and when Bellamy feels lonely or like he needs time away from the noise of Sanctum, he seeks out Jordan. they play cards, they just sit, soaking in all of their resentment and sadness and loss. Jordan is more than happy to give him the silence he needs.

the mess hall is louder than usual, which is why Bellamy probably wanted to get away from the hub of noise that is all of his friends laughing and chatting. with the high ceiling and lack of windows, this place echos and contains sound so well it sounds like it's bouncing off the walls of his head. it grates on his nerves. the rest of them don't seem to get it but he doesn't mind. he just does what he needs to do. today there are more people than usual, packed onto benches and tables. causing the place to feel cacophonic and overwhelming. he's about to get up and leave this place when Madi comes bursting through the front doors, yelling for help.

"Jackson! I need Jackson, please!" Bellamy is up and out of his seat without a moment of consideration, abandoning his cards. the distressed girl is heading towards the table where his friends sit, but Bellamy beats her to it, cutting her off part way there.

"Madi, slow down, what's wrong? is someone hurt?" she's breathing hard, maybe having run here, but more likely that panic is clenching her lungs in her chest.

"It's Clarke," she gulps down air rapidly, trying to get the words out. "she won't wake up, Bellamy, she's running this crazy high fever, and she won't wake up, I'm scared, I don't know what to do, she won't- I can't get her to-"

"hey, hey, deep breaths, we'll find Jackson, okay? deep breathing with me, okay?" he takes one her hands, holding it tight. she nods, taking in a deep, shaky breath. Bellamy tries to quell the worry starting to bubble in his chest, he has to be strong in this moment, he can't lose himself in the fear. people are beginning to stand up, to question Bellamy and Madi. the noise rises in the room and the number of people in the room seems to somehow double within the last minute. he shoves past a dozen people before they get to the doors, making sure to hold to Madi's hand tightly.

"we'll check medical first, which is where he should be. come on." she refuses to walk or even jog, she all out sprints all the way to medical. he follows. she's able to tear in front of him when he slows for a breath and beats him to medical. he doesn't let himself worry about Clarke at this moment, right now, he needs to be strong and level headed for Madi. when he arrives, she's already inside and talking to Jackson. her words going a mile a minute.

"I've definitely seen this before, she had it in the valley and- and she almost died from it. I don't know what brought it on, we thought it was some kind of flu back then but it just keeps getting worse, and worse, and worse."

"okay," Jackson is taking notes on a piece of paper, listening intently. "how did she get better last time?"

"I used these berries, I think, that were said to have healing properties. but that's it and I don't even know if that's fixed it 'cause she didn't get better for hours and hours after I gave her those." she fiddles anxiously with the ends of her hair, bouncing on her heels. "it gets so bad, it goes on for days, it took Clarke more than a week to get out of the worst of it, you just throw up everything you eat and can barely drink anything. it's... awful."

Bellamy's heart twists at everything she's saying, he can't imagine not knowing what's ailing them and having no supplies to fix it. and Madi being just a small child probably, watching Clarke be ill for so long. it sounds... it sounds exactly as Madi is describing it: awful in every possible way.

"did you ever get it?"

"yeah, once, but it wasn't as bad as her... she always said I just ran a fever for a day or two, and that's about it." everything about her body language, her speech, everything is just so full of worry. her hands are all of the place, she bites her lips and nails. "we never knew why she got it so bad. and more than once. Clarke said something about the radiation but I don't know. I didn't think it'd ever happen again after a couple of years but I'm so worried she won't come out of it better this time and-"

"okay," Jackson cuts her off. "I need you to take me to her. it sounds a lot like some kind of flu, like you described it, but I have to examine her to be sure."

Madi nods frantically. even Bellamy is surprised by her lack of composure. just yesterday, she was cool, collected, diplomatic. being everything a good leader should be. but today, when presented with the idea that Clarke is in danger, she is the opposite of all of that. she is anxious and on edge and emotionally driven. Clarke and Madi can be quite similar, especially when compared to these types of situations. completely calm the majority of the time but the moment the other is in danger? instincts kick in and not much else matters.

they begin their march out the door and are greeted by several people, most notably Murphy and Raven.

"what's going on? is someone hurt?" Raven demands.

"it's Clarke, she's sick and we're just getting Jackson to check up on her." he's doing his best to downplay it in front of Madi, who is, in a word, terrified. he wouldn't have expected this level of fear from her, but whatever it had been like back in the valley when Clarke got sick, it must be even worse than Madi is saying aloud.

"oh." Raven relents, her demanding air backing down. "do you someone to come with?"

"no," Bellamy shakes his head, enjoying the fact she offered at all, considering her recent treatment of Clarke. how she constantly scrutinizes her, refuses to talk to her when Clarke actually sits with them during dinner. "I think we're good, we have Jackson and Madi, we shouldn't crowd the room anyways."

"right." Raven says. she stands there for a moment more, as if considering something, before turning her back on them and heading back towards the mess hall.

Murphy rolls his eyes. "I'll come with, make sure we don't lose our princess."

the old nickname makes Bellamy bristle, as he hadn't heard it in what feels like a millenium. but he ignores, jerking his head in the direction of where he knows Clarke and Madi's apartment is. surprisingly, Murphy follows. and even more surprisingly, when they have begun walking, Madi slows a little and reaches over to take Bellamy's hand. her small one in his reminds him a lot of Octavia, Octavia before everything went down. Octavia who still lived under the floor. Octavia who was still young and didn't know the horrors of the world. it is unmistakably childlike.

"Bellamy." she says quietly. "I- when we were in the valley and Clarke got sick... her heart literally stopped. I had to resuscitate her the way she showed me how. she _died_. what if- what if this time we can't- what if she doesn't-"

"hey," he stops, taking her other and bending down to be on her level. "I won't let that happen. I'll make sure she gets better, okay?"

it pains him to promise that, knowing that he cannot promise life nor death. he can't choose anybody's fate. but he will do everything in his power to keep this promise unbroken.

she purses her lips. "everybody always says that."

and she drops one of his hands and continues walking, but he knows the coldness in her voice isn't genuine. she doesn't let go of his other hand, keeping him close and never letting go. how many times has he seen her openly be affectionate or touch someone like this? not many, not many at all. the life she had lead before he met her he knows nothing about, he realizes. who was she before the flame went into her head? now, with the flame removed, he can start to see glimpses of that girl, the one that spent those six years with Clarke.

"she's up here." Madi announces as they quickly climb the stairs in the tavern. Madi swings the door open and rushes as fast as she can inside, only to let out a cry of pain before Bellamy can even get a look inside.

"she's gone." says the girl, kneeling at the side of the bed, fists clenched around the disheveled sheets. "I should've- I should've stayed- I should've _known to stay_."

"hey, Madi, it's okay." Jackson cuts in, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. "she can't have gotten too far, especially with the level of fever and delirium she's apparently experiencing, we just have to catch up, that's all."

Madi nods, swallowing whatever fears are surging up her throat and stands. the worry is apparent in her eyes and reflects exactly what Bellamy is feeling. Murphy catches his eye, a similar pained expression locked in his eyes. they both have never seen Madi this flustered, not when about to go to war, not when she was put to battle, not even when defying her guardian, but this is a new level of fear. the fear of losing someone to something you cannot control. the fear of losing the person you love most without being able to even try and stop it. how do you cope with that? you simply can't. so she's moving and losing herself in her desperation, knowing full well how bad this disease can get.

it scares him, how much it scares her.

"we should split up," Jackson says, to cover more ground. "me and Madi can go up towards the center of the city. Murphy, Bellamy, you can down through the fields?"

"got it. let people know on the way that we're looking for her."

it hits him as they are walking down the stairs, Madi and Jackson have already gone off in their direction. it makes him stop in his tracks, mouth drop open just slightly because what an _idiot_ he is.

"Murphy." the word comes out as a gasp almost.

"what?" the man in question turns around, eyes roaming his face, trying to gauge the emotion it. "Bellamy, what is it?"

"she buried her mom yesterday." he runs a hand through his hair. "she held a funeral for her _mother_ and now she's sick."

"you think there's a connection?"

"I don't know but I think I know where we should check first."

_iv. n_ _or look through the eyes of the dead,_

_Josephine is dead, Clarke knows this and acknowledges it every day, but in her dreams, in the deep paralysis of sleep, she still exists. she lives within Clarke herself, only emerging to formulate a vision of the woman who once inhabited this body. in her dreams, Clarke knows that this version of Josephine is only a version of her subconscious that latched onto her. Josephine in Clarke's head is honest, can look over the chasmic disaster that is Clarke's brain and pick out bits that are outlandish. she sneers at self hatred, she rolls her eyes whenever Clarke thinks of herself as Wanheda_. _in the strangest way possible, Josephine is the only friend she has at the moment. she's definitely torn between knowing that this version of her is just giving Clarke an excuse to be honest with herself and the fact that having someone tell you your self loathing thoughts are bullshit. she can't bring herself tell herself those things, so her mind made this: Josephine Lightbourne, the ever honest._

_her dream tonight is not normal, it's glossed over in a sheet of silver, creating a gossamer glowing effect around everything she sees. she sees blurry patches of color, a spot of yellow here and there, green all around, and when she lifts her chin... blue. blue everywhere. the same as the sky on earth. she's home. and as it all comes into focus, so does a person sitting cross legged in a field of yellow daisies. two people actually. one with their back to her and the other peering over the head of the other. the latter looks up, smiles and waves Clarke over. the recognition washes over Clarke like an ice bath, sending chills down her spine._

_the one who waved at her, is Clarke. but younger, more innocent, with light behind her blue eyes and blonde hair past her shoulders. her smile is loose and bright and inviting and Clarke wants nothing more than to pull her close, the same way she would to Madi, and protect her from what is to come._

_she hesitates before walking over, afraid of who the person with their back to her will be, even though she has a general idea of who her mind will create. as she gets closer, she can that the two of them had been playing some kind of card game, and there was a third and a fourth hand set out. fanned cards neatly arranged on the grass. Clarke glances at the second person and knows her suspicions are correct, red dyed hair with dirt stained hands and face. eyes with fight in them, but fear as well. she never felt that fear in real time, she was mostly afraid of herself. of the hands that cut and bled and killed. of the mind that chose wrongly and never trusted. looking at that Clarke, the Clarke who slayed Mount Weather, the Clarke that fled after the battle, the Lost Clarke, she sees the worst possible version of herself. the version that hates herself with a burning passion, the one that ran. the oh so very lost version of herself, even more lost than now._

_"take a hand." Young Clarke says, nodding towards the cards. Lost Clarke says nothing._

_Clarke does as she's told, picking up the seven cards. she clocks them silently. an ace of spades. two eights, of hearts and of clubs. a two of diamonds. a five of spades. and a nine and a ten of hearts._

_instead of asking the obvious questions, Clarke just asks: "what are we playing?"_

_"rummy." Young Clarke answers, shifting a card around in her hand. "your favorite card game, remember when we used to play with Wells? almost as much as chess but you liked chess better 'cause it was more intellectual."_

_"yeah..." the truth is she had forgotten this game for a long time, she barely even remembers the rules and so she just watches Young Clarke place down three sevens, of hearts, of spades, and of diamonds before her in the grass. and put down a six of hearts from her hand into a messy pile of cards between the three of them._

_"your turn." Young Clarke lifts her eyes to meet Now Clarke's._

_Clarke meets her eye for a moment but looks away almost immediately, the lack of explicit pain in her eyes brings a wave of sadness and nostalgia. she peers in front of her where a lone hand of cards sits in the grass.  
_

_"who are we waiting for?" Clarke questions._

_"Josephine." Young Clarke says, switching yet another card around in her hand, a puzzled look on her face. "she says she'd be here before you but she's late, again. honestly, should've expected that from her. she'll be here soon, though."_

_"you... you know who Josephine is?" Clarke asks, and the obvious question lies between them: do you know everything that's happened? Young Clarke turns to her, tilting her head to the side slightly._

_"of course I know her. we all do. we exist in you, Clarke. so we know everything." the thought of that makes Clarke feel sick; that this young, innocent Clarke knows all that Now Clarke has done. knows how sad Now Clarke is. knows how much her friends hate her now. knows how lonely she is. it's truly awful to look at this old version of herself, the part of her that just wanted to save people. that thought that peace was a possibility. she just wanted to live on the ground and paint pictures. that missed her father._

_"are... you disappointed?" she asks, throat feeling very dry. "in what you know?"_

_"your turn." Young Clarke repeats, brushing off Clarke's question._

_Clarke swallows dryly, trying not to succumb to the pounding of her heart. she tries to remind herself that these people are not real, they are figments of her mind just like Josephine is. moving on, Clarke picks up a new card from the deck in the middle, receiving a king of clubs. she's about to just discard the two of diamonds without doing anything in her turn when a dark figure starts walking in the distance. all three of the Clarkes look up suddenly, staring at this figure._

_"that's not Josephine." Lost Clarke says under her breath, the first words she's uttered so far._

_"what do you mean, 'it's not Josephine', it has to be Josephine." Young Clarke murmurs. the figure is shadowed, with a face completely obscured. the light doesn't seem to touch them. the spectre of darkness strikes a minor chord in Clarke's chest, something's wrong; off. she feels this desperate need to know who they are while also wanting to run._ _the three of them stood, abandoning their cards in the grass. out of nowhere, the wind picked up, sending all of their hair, especially Young Clarke's, flying around their faces. a chill goes down her spine, leaving her feeling exposed and... wrong. there's something predominantly wrong as this person gets closer and closer to the three of them._

_finally, Young Clarke gasps, realization flooding her face and she grabs Now Clarke's and Lost Clarke's arms, tugging them with her away from this person._

_"we have to go, come on." she says urgently._

_"wait, wait," Clarke says. "we're in my mind, this is a dream, I can't die in a dream."_

_"Clarke, please, come on, you do not want to see that." Young Clarke pleads but Clarke turns away from her and looks at the third party, the one who seems to have no opinion on this topic. who has spoken once. Clarke knows this side of herself, knows she doesn't trust herself to say what she's actually thinking, that the words on her tongue are being over thought and ultimately held back. she existed in that realm of rethinking and rethinking every single thing she's going to say for a little while. before she attempted to relearn her old habits and be the old Clarke that lead the 100. she was never the same after the mountain though. not after something like that._

_Lost Clarke jerks her head in the direction of the spectre. "come on."_

_Young Clarke's look of pain is the last thing Now Clarke sees before turning and following Lost Clarke down the hill._

_"do you know who they are?" Clarke whispers._

_"yes," Lost Clarke replies. "your deepest thoughts and urges. the side of you that is Wanheda."_

_Clarke stops suddenly, bile rising in her throat. "I- I can't-"_

_"Clarke, you have to face her. I live in a constant mindspace of you becoming her. you have to face her." looking at herself, seeing who she used to be, Clarke reaches forward, pulling her into a loose hug. one that is attempting to convey so many emotions she can't. and in the back of her mind, Clarke can't help but hear "this isn't real this isn't real"_ _but ignores it because hugging this broken girl is what she needs at the moment. it is healing. it is warmth. who cares if it's a dream? this is what she wishes someone had done to her during that time._

_she pulls away and places a hand on Lost Clarke's cheek. "it'll get better."_

_Lost Clarke removes her hand from her cheek gently. "face her."_

_Clarke lets herself slip away from this girl, and walk the small distance down the hill until she is barely five feet away from this figure. she still can't make of their face, it is completely obscured by a shadow cast by nothing. the figure slowly starts to raise their head, movements jerky and off putting. arms dangling lifelessly at their side. this person seems almost devoid of life, every visible limb, every shadow cast, is so empty and lackluster._

_"who are you?"_

_then they raise their head._

_her manifestation of darkness reveals their identity._

_"what you fear most." Bellamy's mouth speaks with her voice. his eyes aren't his, they aren't even looking at her. they look right through her, past the hill, past the landscape she sees here, he is not seeing. "that I hate you, that I resent you. for all that you've done."_

_she covers her mouth with her hand, not allowing any sound to come out._

_he lifts his arms, head now ducking to observe these body parts. "I do wonder why your mind chose him. you could've picked anybody else, your mom, Madi, anyone else who you love. but you chose him. I wonder why._

_"maybe it's because you know Madi will always love you and your mom died loving you so that's always there, maybe it's because Bellamy doesn't love you anymore so you immediately assume he despises you. he never explicitly ever said he loved you, actually, maybe he never did. maybe he just stood by you because you were strong. you were_ _strong. and now he's moved on because you're weak. he doesn't need you anymore, Clarke. nobody needs-"_

_"SHUT UP!"_

_"no, you always tell everyone to be quiet Clarke. maybe you should be quiet for once. maybe less people would die if you did that. I wonder if the entire world would be okay if you'd just died in the dropship crash along with those two kids. they were the lucky ones. they didn't get see the ground, yeah, but they didn't get to see how you ruined it either. you are what burned the planet, Clarke, you're the reason all of our friends are dead. you are the reason our people were doomed from the start. it's because of you. poison. the grounders were right, you really are the Commander of-"_

_"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!"_

_she screams herself awake._

_v. nor feed on the spectres in books,_

they reach Abby's grave about ten minutes later on foot. there's no one there but Bellamy stops anyways, going to stand in front of the headstone that proclaims the loss. he stands there for a moment, head bowed, thinking how he should've been there when Clarke stood in this exact spot. how he should've been able to hold her and tell her that he'll be there for her. that he knows what it's like to lose a mother. funerals weren't a real event on The Ark, death was so common so what was the point really? but down here, every life matters. so they bury bodies and create headstones for the people they've lost. someday, there will be a real cemetery, like they did in the days before the bombs, where people can leave flowers for lost friends and family members, and actually mourn. mourning is a luxury they never had but soon, they'll be able to have at least that, he hopes.

"hey, Bellamy." Murphy calls to him. "there's a bunch of footprints over here, like someone was pacing and then fell down or something."

Bellamy walks over to join him, observing the ground that Murphy points out. he frowns. "weird but I don't know if it was Clarke. if she fell, wouldn't you think she'd still be here?"

"probably not, she got this far. might as well keep going." the thought strikes them at the same time, the idea that they might need more than just four people split apart.

"do you think she went into the forest?" Murphy voices it first, worry lacing itself into his tone.

"I really, _really_ hope not." Bellamy says determinedly. "let's keep looking and... cross that bridge when we come to it."

they spend the evening in denial of where she most likely is. as a nightblood, she wouldn't even need to take down the shield. she could just walk through it herself. they look down every aisle of the fields, hoping that she ends up having just collapsed halfway to the border. it shouldn't be this hard to find a fevered, sick young woman who stands out like a sore thumb no matter where she goes. he could spot her blonde hair from a mile away, shining in the broad daylight. speaking of daylight, they're losing it. the sun will start setting in less than half an hour and if they don't find her soon, they won't find her tonight that's for sure. if they can't find her now, they sure as hell won't be able to under the pitch black darkness of night.

they have to find her, they just have to. for his sake, for Madi's sake, for all of their sakes.

it becomes even more of an issue when darkness falls and they have turned up nothing.

"Bellamy, we have to head back." Murphy grabs his shoulder, forcibly turning him around to be face to face.

"no, Murphy, you can leave but I'm not going back without her." Bellamy growls, shrugging Murphy's hand off his shoulder.

"we can't just wander around in the dark, we can go back and get reinforcements, more people, lights. hell, medicine for when we do find her. what we're doing right now isn't helping at all." he's right and Bellamy knows it, but something lurches in his stomach at the thought of leaving her out here in the dark. probably in the forest that's full of dangers at every turn. yes, she can take care of herself but not right now. not when she's ill. this time, he knows that she needs protection and he's not there to protect her.

"right." he sighs. the best way he can protect her is by doing what Murphy says. getting more people, gaining power and then heading back out into the night. "let's go."

*

"Bellamy, what's going on?" Madi's voice rises above the intense chatter in medical. "where's Clarke? Jackson won't tell me anything."

his eyes find her pushing past someone in the crowd, lifting her chin to look him in the eyes. reminds him of someone. "we haven't found Clarke yet, we're just organizing a search party now."

"how have we not found her? I thought she couldn't have gotten very far." Madi worries her lip, looking down and then back up. "I'm coming with, you can't tell me no, she's Clarke and I'm supposed to be there for her. you know that I-"

"just take the damn lantern, Madi." Bellamy says, placing a small paper lantern in her hands. "we're carrying these mostly for light and to alert one another of each other's presences. there's a lot of animals and things in the woods so if they have a lantern, we don't take action."

Madi swallows visibly. "the woods? you think she went in the forest?"

he hesitates before nodding. "I think so, yes. it's probably the only place she could be at this point. we _will_ find her, Madi. I promise. it's just a matter of time."

"what if... when we find her it's too late, Bell?" a lump of emotion rises in his throat, she sounds so much like Octavia, in her tone and phrasing, he can't help but look at her and see the girl under the floor. he wants nothing more than to pull her close and kiss the crown her head and shelter her from this world. but if he's learned anything from raising Octavia is that he can't protect her from everything. she will experience grief, she will experience anger and resentment, she will experience all of things humans go through. and he can't protect her from that, and neither can Clarke. but he thinks she knows that by now.

he doesn't give a straight answer. "we'll find her, now come on, we still have to hand out some lanterns."

she nods, face solemn and cold. she's strangely calm now, after spending the evening freaking out and losing control. her lips remain pressed together tightly, eyebrows furrowed. he knows that there is no biological connection between Clarke and Madi yet he can't help but see the similarities in their mannerisms. the way they express themselves is very similar to each other, with the way their stance, shoulders pulled back, chin lifted to make up for lack of height. she holds herself with confidence and doesn't seem to let her worry seep through, contrary to her earlier.

"we'll find her." she repeats. "we have to."

the two of them help pass out a couple of lanterns, going from person to person, some of whom Bellamy recognizes, most of whom he doesn't. it's very kind of them to help them look for their friend and he tells them so. and all of their replies are mostly the same, that they're glad to help, that they're doing what anybody else would do, that she'd probably do the same for them. nevertheless, he's so glad that they are kind enough to help the people that very nearly destroyed their society.

Raven approaches the two of them, holding a lantern in her hand. "ready?"

"you're coming with?" Bellamy asks, surprise lacing his voice.

"yeah, of course I am." she says indignantly. "I'm- I'm here to help, Bellamy, why don't we get started. we're wasting time."

Bellamy tries not to let any of his thoughts out as he looks back at her. how she's here, ready to help Clarke and go in search of her when not so long ago she had been throwing poison from her tongue at her, giving her cold looks over her shoulder or not looking at her at all.

"that's great." he says, even if it's through slightly gritted teeth. and turns away slightly too quickly.

as quickly as he can, he shouts for everyone's attention. "we should spread out, we're taking down the shield briefly so make sure you're through. and stay by at least two other people, we're going to find Clarke but we aren't going to let anybody get hurt in the process, she wouldn't want anyone injured on her behalf. now, everyone head out, find your partners and keep your eyes peeled!"

the group moves as a pack, slowly spreading out as they go down through the fields and towards the shield. it has already been taken down by Raven ahead of time but she lingers in the back to turn it off as the group passes through. Bellamy heads the group with Madi, who has this determined look on her face, like she'll stop at nothing to find Clarke. and Bellamy knows it's true. knows they'll be out here every day and every night until they find Clarke.

and Bellamy will be there beside her.

_vi. You shall not look through my eyes either,_

_reality comes in blurred, rosy hued flashes. fevered moments she can't differentiate from dreams and real life. she sees trees, a sky full of stars, a field of flowers, flits of golden hair. the pain comes similarly. one moment, her limbs are on fire, like somebody has stuck needles into her temples and into all of her joints. the next, she is weightless, numb and warm. which is worse, she isn't sure. she isn't even really aware of her body, but somehow she can acknowledge that. if she tries to move her fingers, she simply cannot. it was like existing in Josephine's consciousness again, existing, living, breathing, heart beating but not being able to speak or move on her own accord._

_the first real image that swims through her mind, one that she is quite sure is real because of the voice that comes with, is one that highly confuses her.  
_

_"I'm going to help you, Clarke." he says softly, leaning over her._

_the only thing she can pant out is:_

_"Gabriel?"_

_*_

_the next dream feels familiar to the last. several people seated in a lazy circle, except this time there are three instead of two._

_"look who decided to show up." Josephine calls from her spot in the circle, next to Young Clarke and Lost Clarke respectively._

_"says you." Young Clarke quips, taking her turn and laying down an ace of diamonds on their ever growing pile of cards. Clarke makes a note in her mind, they kept playing after she had left. they've gone all the way around the circle and reached Clarke's turn once again. Josie has three cards on the ground in front of her, the ace of hearts, two of hearts, and three of hearts, all neatly lined up in order in front of her. Lost Clarke doesn't have anything on the ground in front of her, but she has significantly less cards than before, instead of seven cards, she now only carries two._

_Josephine grins at the younger girl as Now Clarke comes to sit across from her._

_"you know, I like this you a lot better. at least she's feisty and not always wallowing in self pity." she comments, twirling her hair around a finger, like she always does in Clarke's dreams. tilting her head to the sid with a grimace, she says, "and you should've the long hair, suits you better... and we don't talk about-" she leans away from Lost Clarke and mouths_ "the red" _and fake gags._

_Clarke rolls her eyes at the woman's antics, having forgotten how accurate her mind could depict Josephine as. she lived as her, watched her go about her daily life, entered her most precious memories, you get to know someone pretty well after that point. she can construct a very accurate version of Josephine that she knew who now lives here, with the different versions of herself and the place where she stores her most precious memories. great. a Josephine Lightbourne in every place Clarke doesn't want her._

_"it's your turn. hurry. I wanna finish this game before you wake up." Josephine says, waving her hand about the air._

_"alright, alright."_

_Clarke looks over her cards again before reaching to pick up from the deck again, this time getting another king, a king of diamonds. she places that neatly next to her other king (that one is of clubs) to use later. she glances over her cards and sees the pattern this time, picking up the eight, the nine, and the ten of hearts and places them before her, fanned out. she's not quite sure she remembers the rules of this game completely, her time of playing cards and chess with Wells are long over and she's moved on from that part of her life. maybe if they'd had a deck in the valley, she would've taught Madi, but they didn't, so she taught her chess instead, with carved wood pieces and a painted chess board._

_she discards her eight of clubs into the pile, leaning back and waiting for Lost Clarke to assume her turn._

_she takes a long time, eyebrows furrowed in hesitation and concentration. and finally reaches forward to pick up the eight of clubs from the top of the pile of discarded cards. she's the first one to do that, Clarke had forgotten that you could pick up from the discard pile. they all watch Lost Clarke with interest, as her fingers sort through every card she has even though she only now has three. it feels like she's preparing something but as time passes, nothing does._

_"oh my god, hurry up!" Josephine groans, throwing her head back._

_"I'm going!" Lost Clarke snarls back but still takes her time before simply laying down the four of hearts. "your turn, Josie."_

_Josephine grins, quickly snatching up the four of hearts and placing it on top of her ace to three of hearts pile. "are you blind? I have these cards in plain view."_

_"no, I just have better things to worry about than this game." Lost Clarke bites back. Josephine rolls her eyes._

_"so dramatic, let's just get on with this game, I'm bored already." she discards the queen of hearts places her cards face down on the ground and makes eye contact with Now Clarke across the circle. "y'know, I don't think I ever really looked in your head, how many versions are there in there? or in here, whatever you wanna say. are there more of you? cause i'd love to meet some other little Clarke's, all running around and fighting and yelling about your people. actually... no thanks. we already have enough of you right here. that might get a little confusing, wouldn't it?"_

_"yeah, sure." Clarke replies, fidgeting with her cards in her hand. "do we have to finish this game in order for me to wake up completely? is that how it works?"_

_Lost Clarke shrugs. "we know as much as you-"_

_"we are you." Young Clarke adds._

_"we just know we should play this game until something tells us not to you."_

_"last time... it was Wanheda. where did she go?"_

_Lost Clarke shrugs again, not bothering to answer. she doesn't answer. Josephine jumps in to answer. "I arrived not long after you left, Wanheda was still there. she came in the shape of your little Bellamy. cute. she left when I climbed up the hill. just kinda-"_

_she waved her hand through the air in a circular motion. "disappeared. just like that."_

_"so she could come back?" Clarke asks, her throat feeling dry, imagining having to face her again._

_"she's always here, Clarke." Lost Clarke says. "she exists within you all the time. the monster is always inside your head."_

_Clarke glances down at the discard pile, making note of the top card. "she's the queen of hearts."_

_"no," Young Clarke shakes her head and reaches to lay a hand on Clarke's forearm. "you are. you're stronger than her. you're stronger than all of them. no matter what they all say, no matter what she says, you're stronger than them. than all of your parts combined. you're the whole, made up all of your parts. not just her."_

_"w-what they say?" Clarke asks. "my friends?"_

_Young Clarke nods. "you don't need their approval."_

_"this is a very uplifting dream." Josephine drawls. "but she's right. screw 'em and carry on with your day."_

_Lost Clarke remains silent, and Clarke knows that she's holding back. she exists in a perpetual state of self hate so to hear these differing opinions on how she should treat herself must be so strange. she lives in this place where she thinks she doesn't deserve the most basic human desire; love. she separates herself from everything she loves to deprive herself of that cushion. she wants to make sure she gets what she deserves and to her, that is the worst of punishments. looking at this version of herself, Clarke can see how far she's come. yes, she's still hurting and damaged but she has people she can love openly now. she's accepted that she will inevitably love and cannot stop that. and that is the best thing she ever could have done for herself._

_"I-" Lost Clarke opens her mouth, barely any sound comes out. she swallows, eyes dropping to her hand of cards. "I wish I could tell you that you should just forget about them and move on but... I can't. you can't do that._

_"and before anybody gets on my case, it's not just because I think I deserve, I do. but also because- because you love them too much. you care too much to let them think you don't care. I don't think you should grovel at their feet and beg for their forgiveness but... you're life isn't complete without them. if you just dropped them and never talked to them again, you'd be... lonely. and lonely sucks, Clarke."_

_"I know." Clarke answers solemnly. she knows that Lost Clarke, the Clarke she speaks to is the best part of her to give her advice in this matter. she has lived this decision, she has decided whether to ask for forgiveness or to run. and she's learned what it's like to run. so Now Clarke must tightrope walk the place between, she has apologized, she is regretful, but because even though they gave nothing in return to her, she cannot run and hide from them. the only way she will live with herself is if she does this._

_Young Clarke nods softly, reaching forward to pick a card from the deck, assuming her turn. she picks up the card and immediately, a crease appears between her eyebrows._

_"what?" Clarke asks._

_"this... this can't be right." she murmurs. "this deck is screwed up."_

_"how? it's a deck inside Clarke's mind." Josephine quips. "show us, what is it?"_

_Young Clarke turns the card around and shows the rest of them._

_the queen of hearts._

_Clarke frowns. the red queen. a card that sits right there on top of the discard pile, in plain view._

_as Clarke reaches forward to take the card from Young Clarke, the hair on the back of her neck stands up. she feels a hand close around her wrist before she sees it and forces Clarke to look straight up at whoever is pulling at her, coming face to face with the red queen herself._

_blodreina._

_"Octavia?" she whispers, pulling herself to her feet and facing the woman. she nods, grinning._

_"I found you." and takes her hand, starting to pull her along, away from her other selves. and it's only when Clarke glances back that she sees that the other Clarke's and Josephine are gone. not just they are gone but the entire hill that they had been atop has disappeared, being replaced by these familiar trees, with a patched and falling apart wall. the air smells like it did then, real, fresh, dirty, but so... clean. like trees and fresh grass and dirt and wildflowers all mixed into one. she misses it dearly. even if sometimes it smelled of blood and gore, she still loved it._

_Clarke digs her heels into the mud, ripping her hand from Octavia's grasp and looks up, jaw dropping at the sight of the old metal contraption of the dropship. the air leaves her lungs and she stands there, trying to regain her strength in the face of so many old memories._

_"Octavia, what- how are we here?" she gasps. "what is this?"_

_Octavia stands there, her gaze never leaving Clarke. Clarke meets her eye, leveling her own gaze with the other woman's. "Octavia..."_

_"we have to keep moving, Clarke, or they'll find us. come on." she says, but she doesn't move. something isn't right, but she can't put her finger on it. she talks like Octavia, she looks like Octavia, the way she holds herself is the same even, but there's something off about her. not even her own mind can conjure up the right image of Octavia, she can't capture the spirit of her. maybe it's that her spirit can't be contained, maybe it's that it can't be replicated but for whatever reason, this Octavia is not believable._

_"this is a dream." Clarke says softly. "this is dream, Octavia. I'm in my own mind. I can't be physically hurt here."_

_"we have to go. now." Octavia says, still unmoving. Clarke frowns, her feet have stayed planted their entire short conversation. as if some gravity is pulling her eternally downwards, magnets on the soles of her shoes staying attached to the ground. and when her gaze shifts over Clarke's shoulder, chills run down Clarke's spine again, the same way they had when Octavia grabbed her wrist on the hill. cold seeping into her bones until she realizes it's raining, it's not just cold inside her body, it's water dripping down her neck, blurring her vision, soaking her clothes. and when she whips around to see what Octavia had been looking at, the wind picks up, blowing the trees around and obscuring the open gate._

_but behind the trees, past the rain and flying debris, she can make out the blurred line of a silhouette. one moment, it's there, the next it's gone. in the blink of an eye, the person who Clarke could've sworn held a knife in their hand, is gone._

_"come inside!" Octavia yells and when Clarke turns back around, she's moved, running up the ramp to the door of the dropship._

_"no..." Clarke murmurs, her feet carrying her towards the gate._

_"Clarke, get inside! now!" she processes the words, the desperation in them that is so very "Octavia" but doesn't listen. the rain pounds against her face, the wind works against her, she has to fight her way towards the gate. and she's almost there, she's almost through when a shadow falls over her. for a second, she thinks a person is above her, casting that shadow down like a spotlight of shade but a crash comes a moment later, and she's falling to the ground. straight into the mud, her shoulder hits hard against some sort of rock or root. and when she lifts her head, a fallen tree lies not five feet from her head. it had fallen right between her and the gate. between her and the figure that is still imprinted in her mind. small, shaking, with clenched hands._

_it's driving her away from the gate. whatever it is, she isn't sure, but it doesn't want her leaving._

_she turns her head towards the dropship and for a moment, Octavia flickers out of existence, replaced by the shadow of a young man with blood blooming from the center of his shirt._


End file.
